"He asked for the heart carved from your breast": some secrets & some Snow White

On her wedding night, the banquet roared on below. Prince Felipe swept Blanca Nieve to his bedchamber; there, with a gasp, she beheld a mirror balanced against the wall. It was neither ornate nor gold-framed, but a slab of dark, metallic glass. Obsidian-smooth in the candlelight, its surface shifting like mercury, like memory.

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